


The Sensible Side of Love

by Nemainofthewater



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Anniversaries, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Love, Romance, no angst just fluff, relationships, taking care of one's partner, who unfortunately lacks basic survival skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 08:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19352947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/pseuds/Nemainofthewater
Summary: “You know you can’t just keep me locked in here, don’t you?”“On the contrary, Captain,” Gideon replied, “I think you’ll find that I can, and I will.”





	The Sensible Side of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IncendiaGlacies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncendiaGlacies/gifts).



> Based on a prompt given to me by ams75 (originally from IncendiaGlacies I believe).
> 
> Dedicated to IncendiaGlacies in the hopes it'll make you smile.
> 
> Title is based on a poem called 'Atlas' by U.A Fanthorpe:
> 
> There is a kind of love called maintenance  
> Which stores the WD40 and knows when to use it
> 
> Which checks the insurance, and doesnt forgetThe milkman; which remembers to plant bulbs;  
> Which answers letters; which knows the way  
> The money goes; which deals with dentists
> 
> And Road Fund Tax and meeting trains,  
> And postcards to the lonely; which upholds
> 
> The permanently rickety elaborate  
> Structures of living, which is Atlas.
> 
> And maintenance is the sensible side of love,  
> Which knows what time and weather are doing  
> To my brickwork; insulates my faulty wiring;  
> Laughs at my dryrotten jokes; remembers  
> My need for gloss and grouting; which keeps  
> My suspect edifice upright in air,  
> As Atlas did the sky.

“You know you can’t just keep me locked in here, don’t you?”

 

“On the contrary, Captain,” Gideon replied, “I think you’ll find that I can, and I will.”

 

Rip scowled. Gideon was unfortunately correct, as she often was. Not that he was going to tell her that: she was insufferable enough.

 

Looking around, he grudgingly admitted that she had out a lot of work into her plan. The cargo bay had been transformed: no longer was it slightly messy, filled with boxes and the occasional patches of mud. Instead various dividers had been placed around the space, covered with a pattern of miniature Waveriders if Rip wasn’t mistaken, clearly delineating a dining room (complete with elaborately set table), a small kitchenette filled with tea and a the fabricator from the kitchen, a bedroom containing a comfortable looking bed covered in rose petals of all things, and a discreet bathroom in the furthest corner. Yes, a great deal of effort had gone into this. He absently wondered who Gideon had bullied into helping her set this all up: probably Ray and Jax. They were soft touches. 

 

It was a pity that he couldn’t focus on anything but the door. The locked door which no longer seemed to respond to his override codes. He could shut Gideon down, he supposed, or shoot the lock with his revolver, but that seemed like an overreaction. And would lead to either a very grumpy Gideon, and potentially a hole in his ship. Hardly worth it.

 

“Fine,” he conceded, “Technically you can keep me in here. However, I think you’ll find that I’ll be released rather quickly when the rest of the crew wants to, oh I don’t know. Leave the ship?”

 

“In fact,” Gideon said, “Captain Lance has given the Legends the week off. In order for them to relax and recuperate.” Had she a physical mouth, butter would not have melted in it.

 

“Of course, she has,” Rip muttered, “Forgive me if I’m wrong Gideon, I’m rather new to this whole co-Captain thing, but surely she should have run this by me at some point?”

 

“I offered to tell you,” Gideon said, “In order to save Captain Lance from having to track you down.”

 

“I don’t recall that conversation taking place,” Rip said.

 

“Captain,” Gideon said seriously, though Rip could hear the amusement in her voice, “Captain Lance wishes me to inform you that the team has been given a week’s leave, effective as of five hours ago.”

 

“Haha. You’re hilarious,” Rip said, rolling his eyes.

 

“I do my best, Captain.”

 

“So I’m to be trapped here for a week?” Rip said, gesturing around the rooms, “Not that it isn’t nice, Gideon, but there’s nothing to do around here.”

 

“If you look closer at your bedroom,” Gideon said, “I believe you’ll find a projector screen and a rather impressive collection of Westerns.”

 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Rip said, “How am I supposed to locate the next aberration while I’m stuck in here?”

 

“I believe that’s the point,” Gideon said, voice dry.

 

“And what’s with all the, the-” Rip waved his hand, “The rose petals and the candles?”

 

An unimpressed silence.

 

“Gideon?” Rip asked tentatively.

 

Still nothing.

 

Frowning, Rip thought about the date. Oh. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what this was about. Mentally, he counted back through the months until…Bollocks.

 

“It’s our anniversary, isn’t it,” he said, voice quiet and apologetic.

 

“Indeed Rip,” Gideon said, “Our twentieth. In subjective time.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Rip said, “What with everything going on I suppose it slipped my mind…”

 

“I know what you’re like,” Gideon said, “I knew when I chose you as my Captain.”

 

“I’m fairly certain I was the one doing the choosing,” Rip said.

 

“We chose each other,” Gideon said with a tone of finality.

 

Rip laughed. “Yes,” he said, “We rather did. I still remember when I first met you: I was rather a brat. I can’t remember if I’ve apologised for that.”

 

“You were very young,” Gideon said, “And foolish. Now you’re older and equally foolish.”

 

“Ah,” said Rip, “But you love me for it.”

 

“Yes,” Gideon said, “I do.”

 

Rip reached out a hand and touched the wall gently. “I would have died a thousand times over if not for you,” he said.

 

“That is correct,” Gideon said, “Luckily you’ll always have me to stop you from throwing yourself into danger. Even if it means I have to lock you in a room for a week in order to get you to take care of yourself.”

 

Rip raised an eyebrow.

 

“I thought that this was an anniversary celebration?” he said.

 

“It is,” Gideon replied primly, “However, I am much more intelligent than you and can multitask. You haven’t slept more than four hours for at least a fortnight, and if you’ve eaten anything other than a protein shake in the last forty-eight hours, then I’ll let you out right now.”

 

Rip opened his mouth.

 

“Tea doesn’t count,” Gideon said.

 

“It has milk in it-” Rip started to say.

 

“Tea. Doesn’t. Count.”

 

Rip sighed, and gave in. She was only looking out for him, and besides. A small, guilty part of him was basking in the feeling of someone caring. Of someone knowing him well enough to anticipate his protests, his arguments, his escape attempts, and to counter them all before he even realised what was going on. It felt like…being loved.

 

“Well then Gideon,” he said, “Since I evidentially can’t escape, what do you have planned for us?”

 

“I think you’ll be pleased with the menu tonight, Rip,” Gideon said, “I included all of your favourites. Apart from dessert.”

 

“Oh?” Rip asked, “What are we doing for dessert?”

 

Gideon’s voice went soft, and uncertain: “I thought perhaps we could bake a cake together,” she said, “Perhaps attempt a fondant Waverider for the top.”

 

Rip felt a wave of affection rush through him. “My fondant work isn’t as good as I’d like,” he said, “You’ll have to help me.”

 

“Captain,” Gideon said, “It would be my pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am on Tumblr as [Nemainofthewater ](https://nemainofthewater.tumblr.com)


End file.
